Chapter 56 The Phoenix's Resolve
The heavy weight of Jaden’s words pressed down on Klishei, a physical burden she carried through the sanctuary’s halls. Each familiar corner, each quiet hum of life, now felt like a stage set for a tragedy she alone understood.
She watched Yeseus, his movements fluid as he repaired a splintered table in the main hall, his brow furrowed in concentration. The golden light of morning caught the faint silver threads at his temples, threads she now wondered if they were caused not by age, but the insidious work of the blight that was accelerated by their intertwined existence.
“Klishei, you’re staring,” Suneia’s voice, sharp yet tinged with a new, almost watchful quality, cut through her thoughts. The elf polished a silver goblet, her emerald eyes flicking between Klishei and Yeseus.
Klishei startled, forcing a casual smile. “Just admiring his craftsmanship. He’s quite handy, isn’t he?”
Suneia’s lips thinned. “He has many talents. Most of them are far less…domestic.” Her gaze lingered on Yeseus, a familiar possessiveness, a fear Klishei now understood to be rooted in a different truth. Suneia worried for his life, for the Alpha’s dwindling strength.
Later, in the quiet of their shared room, Klishei found herself tracing the faint lines on Yeseus’s sleeping face. He breathed deeply, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest a comfort, yet a torment. The blight. Jaden’s words echoed, cold and clear. The more time that you spend together, the faster that he decays. A knot tightened in her stomach. Every shared laugh, every tender touch, every stolen kiss was a poison, slowly, irrevocably, eroding him.
He stirred, his hand instinctively reaching for hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. “You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes still closed, a soft smile gracing his lips.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Klishei whispered, pulling her hand back almost imperceptibly. The warmth of his skin, once a balm, now burned with a chilling implication.
He opened his eyes, the vibrant blue clouded with sleep, then sharpened with concern. “Another nightmare?”
She shook her head, forcing a lightness into her voice. “Just thinking about my college life.” The lie felt like sandpaper on her tongue, dry and rough.
He pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist. “I’m sorry that you had to stop.” His breath ghosted over her neck, raising goosebumps. She shivered, but not from the cold. It was the crushing weight of her secret, the terrifying knowledge that his trust, his very life, depended on her deception.
“You’re avoiding me,” Yeseus observed one evening, finding her huddled by the old well, sketching in her journal. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of bruised purple and orange.
Klishei flinched, snapping the journal shut. “Just… enjoying the quiet. It’s good for my art.”
He sat beside her, his presence a warm anchor. “Your art has always thrived around me, Klishei. Your heart, too.” His words, meant to be comforting, twisted into a fresh agony.
She couldn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the rough texture of the well’s stone. “I just need some space, Yeseus.”
A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the chirping crickets. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with a quiet hurt. “You’re pushing me away.”
“I’m not,” she insisted, her voice thin. “I just… I need to figure things out for myself.”
He rose, his shadow falling over her. “As you wish, Klishei.” The words were soft, but the distance in his voice was vast, a chasm she had deliberately created.
That night, she didn’t sleep. The guilt gnawed at her, a relentless beast. She imagined Yeseus, alone in his room, the blight tightening its icy grip on his heart. Jaden’s face, serene and unyielding, floated in her mind.
Only when you are ready will I lead you to the king.
She had to be ready. She had to find him.
Before dawn, while the sanctuary still slept, Klishei slipped out of bed, her movements practiced and silent. She pulled on simple clothes, a cloak she borrowed from Suneia’s room, its rough wool smelling faintly of pine and magic. Her journal, now filled with frantic notes and sketches of Jaden, was tucked securely into her bag. She left a short, vague note for Yeseus, a flimsy excuse about needing to clear her head, promising to return. The lie tasted like ash.
She crept outside the sanctuary and out into the woods. The mirage shimmered, a silent agreement to her passage.
Whatever happens from here on now was totally on her. Her grandparents were miles away. She was not asking help from Suneia and Naelyr. This was her fight and business.
She walked, then ran, the forest floor damp beneath her feet. The scent of pine and damp earth filled her lungs, a welcome change from the sanctuary’s heavy air.
“Jaden,” she whispered.